I paid bills this morning. Good Dog. I packed all my wools and my #8 floss in 5, 18 X 18 X 25 inch boxes (with 4 colors left over) I sold another book.

A needlepoint Gallery of Patterns From the Past by Phyllis Kluge

I am selling a lot of books, my huge new order is waiting for me at my folks house on the other coast.

I packed the contents of the shelves in my office. My cookbooks (I am a terrible cook), all my own Needlepoint and Bargello Books (2.5 12 X 12 X 16 boxes all by themselves) and most of all the other stuff from the shelves. The total for just the book shelves in just my office is 6, 12 X 12 X 16 inch boxes.

I have a set of 2 big sort of Mission Style natural cherry wood glass front bookcases in my living room (the room that is hardly ever used, a wasted space IMO but my mother maintains a major, industrial strength Jones about how everyone has to have a formal LR).

Keith packed 10, 12 X 12 X 16 inch boxes of books from there (and not much else, so far).

I am nuts. I can prove this to you by telling you I wash everything from my kitchen before I pack it. I will wash it again when I unpack it. I am nuts.

1 still have the 24 drawers of 10 boxes per drawer (a box is 12 skeins but most of the slots have more then 10 shoved in them) of the DMC #5 to pack.

If there was a Tape Gun Competition I would win. I am The Master Taper.

Off and on all day I read The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. I began it last night but only got 2 chapters in before I fell asleep.

I read and read today. Anytime I took a break I read. I read it at breakfast, at lunch. I finished packing at about 4pm. I read it until 9.00P when I finished it.

It is a excellent book. I have to admit, it dragged a bit in the middle but it picked up it’s pace again and I read on.

The amazing thing about this book is it is all true. It happened to Jeannette Walls and her family. It is believable, no matter how far it went, I could see how it can have been.

It struck me (like a freight train) that I have more then a little of Rose Mary Walls, the mother, in me. She is not a villain, there is no real bad guy in the book, not really.

She has written another book, recently published (The Glass Castle is several years old, I actually found it reading the review for this new one).

It is called Half Broke Horses. She calls it a True-Life Novel. The book is about her grandmother’s life, her mother’s mother. She sounds like a real pip (for lack of a better word).

Tomorrow I take another stab at establishing the utilities at home. I am at “point non plus” on this. I must get this done and I can’t let anyone stop me, even if she is named Maybelline.

It is my current wish (or wishes) that my excellent customers would buy more then my excellent books on NewNeedlepoint.com (HA! bet you thought I wouldn’t get the link in) and that I never have to move again.